


A Queen’s Resolve

by B_Radley



Series: Genesis and Coda [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Love, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: A mother’s love for her son. A sister’s love for her brother. A Queen’s love for her world and its principles.





	A Queen’s Resolve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SLWalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/gifts).



The Viceroy sits in front of the small marble remembrance; the only monument that she had ever wanted. He brings his right hand up to his face, wiping the bit of moisture away. His eyes lock on his chronometer. The device is at the precise angle to display the date instead of the time. The digits blink accusingly at him.

A date that changed his family’s lives forever. A date from which Mazicia Organa, Queen of Alderaan, never truly recovered. A date twenty-four years ago. Nearly a quarter-century of grief and loss—grief and loss that that had probably contributed to the need for the piece in front of him. A piece created by her favorite sculptor; her own grief palpable as she presented it to Bail and his sisters. A piece that described his mother perfectly. Simple, yet complex enough to draw the mind to anything that she said or did.

He hears quiet footsteps coming up behind him. He grins for a moment as he recognizes them. For a moment he marvels that a man of this size can move so discreetly. The grin fades as he remembers that he is supposed to still be angry at this man. A man whose machinations could rankle, but in this case had managed to solve problems on both of their worlds, as well as end a couple of smaller flashes of darkness in the galaxy, against the depthless tapestry of black that surrounds the thousands of worlds.

+=+=+=+=+=

Draq’ Bel Iblis moves silently through the peaceful glade of the Royal Garden. His blue eyes lock onto the younger man seated on a bench. He glances over to his left. A one-eyed man nods at him slightly, although the one visible eye narrows a bit. Draq’ grins to himself, with no small amount of sheepishness. _I guess that is what you get when they find out that their de facto one-person intelligence service happens to be the baby half-sister of the Dragon of Corellia. Something you had neglected to mention to them._

He stops before the man on the bench. Bail Organa, one of the few humans in the galaxy who is actually a couple of centimeters taller than him, looks up from his study of a simple, polished marble ball that rests on a pedestal in the small clearing. Draq’ sneaks a look at the rest of the clearing. Three other identical benches placed around the sphere are the only other structures in the area. He grins as he notices that the grass is slightly unkept and far from the bright green ornamental that he had seen in so many memorial gardens. Not for Mazicia Mandirly Organa. The few times that he had met her, she had never stood on ceremony unless ritual called for it. Even then, her tongue was usually placed completely in her cheek. His smile fades. He turns to the sphere—crossed, stylized candlewick flowers visible on all sides. A sigil reserved only for those who sit or have sat on the throne of Alderaan. His eyes widen as he realizes that the flowers are only visible in the stone at certain angles and certain times. A complex touch that very few who worked in this particular stone could accomplish.

Draq’ stands at attention and bows deeply from the waist. He holds the bow for several moments, then rises and turns to Bail.

Bail eyes him warily. Finally, he shifts over on the bench. Draq’ sits beside him.

“Breha said that you would be here,” the Corellian says.

One side of Bail’s lip curls upward. “Surprised she spoke to you.”

“Yeah. Me too. I think that there was a sneer involved. I can’t be sure. Your Queen is one of the few women who can make me quake a bit.” He nods at the sphere. “Your mother was another.”

Bail looks at him with widened eyes. “I never knew that you met her,” he says.

Draq’ smiles gently. “Yeah. I met her after your uncle was murdered. I had pissed somebody off and had been appointed Chief Ranger. The government sent me to Coruscant and Alderaan to participate in the inquest and the investigation into Tayvor Mandirly’s death. The Procurator at the time felt like I would be good to assist, plus look into any ways we could protect Corellian interests on Antar 4.” He looks Bail in the eye. “We were also looking at ‘unofficial’ ways we could deal with Raxis and Nolid. Something a bit more substantial than a goddamned fine for your uncle’s murder.”

“How’d that work out for you?” Bail asked, a smile on his face, almost sure of the reply.

Draq’ takes a deep breath before answering.

**3 BrS (19 Years Before the Fall of the Republic)**

Draq’ Bel Iblis steps out of the Justice Building, his eyes hard. They soften as he sees the young Padawan and his master exit the imposing structure. Two months later; the pain is still evident on young Kenobi’s face after his testimony. This inquest is the second time that Draq’ had heard the story. The first had been at the Jedi Temple when Draq’ had interviewed Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon Jinn, at the request of his superiors.

Draq’ realizes that the elder Jedi is gazing at him. Draq’ returns his scrutiny, then nods slightly. Jinn returns the gesture and moves off behind the quicker pace of his apprentice.

Draq’ hears softer footsteps behind him. He takes a deep breath, knowing that he would have to face the owner of that measured stride. He turns and immediately bows to the small, regal woman standing in his view. Her rich blue and silver gown is draped over frail shoulders. He looks into her dark eyes. Eyes that will never look on a beloved brother again. Eyes that had never wavered during the inquest, even when it had announced itself powerless to punish the murderers of the botanist, beyond the fine imposed by the planetary government.

“Your Majesty,” he says. As he looks at her, he sees every strong woman who has shaped him. Ina Blackthorn, the last Covenant and Elector of Corellia, his mother-in-law. Ina’s daughter, Laira Blackthorn—his very existence for only an agonizingly brief time. Alyysina Faygan, a laughing, joyful, Zeltron small arms engineer, now with a small reminder of their joy following her around.

All of them embodied in this woman, her high cheek-boned face concealing a hint of humor. Humor that may disappear at any moment from the looks of the tight skin drawn over her face. She walks over to him. He offers her his arm. For a moment, she grins at him. “People will talk, Dragon,” she says.

“Let them, your Majesty. I enjoy being on the arm of a beautiful woman.”

She shakes her head as the smile grows for an instant. “Incorrigible. Damned Corellians.”

The smile fades as she loses herself in her thoughts. After a moment, she looks up at him. “Come with me, Ranger Bel Iblis. I have an appointment at the docks.” They turn to the transport platform. Within a few moments, Draq’ helps her into a speeder, then climbs in beside her.

They are both silent as the speeder climbs into the air. Draq’ sneaks a glance at the Queen. He opens his mouth, then closes it.

“Go ahead and say it, Dragon,” she says quietly.

“I was thinking that you had something to say, Your Majesty,” he replies.

“I’d like to know what your intentions are on Antar 4. You and your world,” she says directly.

Draq’ takes another deep breath, then releases it.

“I’m trying to figure out how those two criminals might get some comeuppance for your brother’s murder that is a bit more permanent than a fine.”

Queen Mazi turns towards him. Draq’ suddenly feels exactly how he had felt when he had asked Ina for Laira’s hand in marriage as the dark eyes bore through him.

_Small and inadequate._

The dark windows soften after a moment. “That won’t bring my brother back,” she whispers. “Do you have brothers and sisters, Draq?”

He feels a twinge as he ponders that question. “I never knew my family, Majesty,” he says. As good as answer as any.

“Tayvor was the light of mine. I would give anything to have him back. I think that you understand. You would do anything to protect that headstrong teenager about to start university on my world.” She smiles. “Or that beautiful little girl on Zeltros.”

He feels his heart sink at the last. “That is not widely known, your Majesty.”

She holds up her hand. “Peace, Dragon. I only know because I have helped keep the secret, at Alyys’s behest. I knew her father.”

Mazi takes his hand in her small one. “I would give anything to be able to bring him back. To protect him. Just as I protect my own know-it-all son.”

He laughs at the description. “You’re not giving me hope, Majesty, that Garm will grow out of knowing everything in ten or eleven years’ time,” he says.

“You just learn to live with it, until one day when he realizes that you’re not as big of a fool as he thought,” she replies with her own brief laugh. She sobers. “I would do anything for them. But I will not avenge Tayvor. It won’t bring him back, and it won’t honor his memory if I let you and your Department of Dirty Tricks loose.”

He says nothing.

“We are pacifists. We believe that violence should be the absolute last resort. I‘ll  not sanction it, even through a proxy.” The last is said in a sharp voice; a voice suddenly filled with powerful grief.

Grief and conviction.

He nods. After a moment, he smiles. “As you wish, your Majesty.” The smile turns a bit devilish. “How do you feel about bankrupting those two? Maybe we can stop them from working their employees to death. As your brother’s legacy.”

She reaches over and kisses him on his cheek. “Do your worst, Dragon, at least in the financial realm.”

“I will, your Majesty. Colfillini plants are something that we need for the whisky industry. A bit of a hint that we have found another source and there might be some control that we can have over their workplace practices. I don’t know. Whyren’s has been thinking about changing the makeup of the brand that needs the extract of Colfillini. I personally think it tastes terrible, anyway.”

“So do I, Draq’,” she says. “I’m not a big fan of flavored whiskies.”

“Your Majesty, I think we will get along just fine,” he says.

He looks up and sees that they are at their destination. He watches as her face grows with wonder.

They are soon out of the speeder and walking towards the ship sitting on the platform. A brand new CR-90– the Corellian Engineering Corporation’s pride. The scarlet diplomatic stripe standing out in the afternoon sun.

Mazi looks at the ship in wonder. Draq’ takes her hand. “Your Majesty, I present the ship that you ordered.”

He sees tears in her eyes. “What is it?” Draq’ asks. “Is there something wrong?”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s just that I ordered this ship so that Tayvor could use it for his botanical expeditions. Got tired of him using any beater of a shuttle when he flew around.” She begins to walk towards it. “ _The Star of Alderaan_ ,” she says.

Draq’ raises his eyebrow as they move towards the ground elevator.

“I know. Fairly pretentious. Bail wanted to name it something else; yet another _Tantive_ or some such nonsense. He’ll probably get his way, eventually.”

As they board the ship, Draq’ smiles at the powerful, principled woman on his arm. He wonders if, when the time came, he would be able to put aside vengeance as a weapon, as she had.

+=+=+=+=+=

Bail is silent as Draq’ finishes the story. “I never knew,” he finally says. “I never knew that she had the opportunity for revenge. I always thought that no one would dare give her that option.”

Draq’ nods. “Yeah. We dared. But I think that she made us better for rejecting the offer.” He puts his hand on Bail’s shoulder. “I know that she made me better.”

“What happened to Raxis and Nolid?” Bail asks.

“I don’t know,” Draq’ replies. “They disappeared after their plantations when bankrupt. The workers found work elsewhere.” He looks away.

“Where?” Bail asks. He feels his suspicion arise.

“Let’s just say that you are the proud silent partner in a Colfillini collective farm, in partnership with the Ancient Whyren on Corellia, as one of the holdings you inherited from the Mandirlys when Mazi died.” He looks away. “The only employee owned farm on the planet.” His face darkens. “It actually managed to survive the Antar Atrocity.”

“I never knew,” Bail says.

“I suspect that Raxis and Nolid might’ve had something to do with the Atrocity. They were getting buddy-buddy with Tarkin. Guess they were hoping to gain their power back when he slaughtered their adversaries.”

Bail sees his eyes grow pained as he says this. He looks over at Mazi’s memorial, contemplating the darkness. “I think that I may have strayed from her teachings and her principles,” he says. “I don’t know what she would think of her son leading the beginnings of an armed rebellion.”

He sees Draq’ roll his eyes. “I think that you’re full of shit, Bail Prestor Organa,” he says. “Your mother may have been a pacifist, but she would’ve done anything to protect her world. She wouldn’t take vengeance, but she would defend against the darkness. It is why you have a defense force.”

“She said it herself to me. _I would do anything for them, but I will not avenge_. You aren’t doing this out of a sense of vengeance—for the Jedi or the Republic. You’re doing it because it is the right thing to do.”

After a moment, Draq’ gets up. “You are her son, Bail. You and Breha are the heart and soul of this movement. Maybe its conscience as well, along with Mon. I will continue to be your blunt instrument. So that I can build something better for Garm and Dani and Bryne, as well as Leia, Jamelyn, and my grandson.”

Bail smiles. “Okay, Dragon. As long as you come clean about all of your siblings on my world.”

Draq’ smirks. “No guarantees. Levon apparently spread it around quite a bit.” After their shared laughter, Draq’ grows serious. “How come you changed the name to _Tantive?_ Your blockade runner.”

“That’s another thing I didn’t know, that you brought the ship to her. My mother didn’t want to name it after the other three that we had. She felt it was too vain.”

“Why?” Draq’ asks. “What is vain about that?”

Bail smiles softly as his eyes close. “Tantive was the name she chose to identify her reign. The word has many meanings, but most importantly, it was the name of the first Organa Queen—nearly back to the founding of the Republic. She set the standard for our Queens; probably the main reason we have been able to maintain a female monarch, in spite of the Panteers and others’ efforts over the centuries.”

Bail shakes his head. “Come on, Dragon. Let’s go drink some brandy. It is the way Mother would’ve celebrated. Got one that might be older even than you,” he says with a grin.

“Probably turned to vinegar by now,” Draq’ replies. “What about Breha?”

“Don’t worry, old man. I’ll protect you from her,” Bail says.

As the snark flies, both men remember lessons from the strong woman memorialized in the park. A woman who died of an intense, painful grief, but who never let the grief and loss compromise her principles, or that of her beloved world.

A world where her son and daughter, as well as a motley collection from around the galaxy, fight to maintain the light there, and in every system.


End file.
